Page 91 of The Cerulean Sister
"Thank you. It was pleasant meeting you."
"You too. But, um, can I ask one more thing if you have a moment?" He picks at the skin around his nail beds like it's a nervous habit.
I nod but still take a step backward.
"Did Mary mention what she was working on? Maybe you worked on a . . . project together?" He recites the questions slower than natural.
"Well, leading up to our departure, we mostly studied the usual field guides on Frith. But as far as what we were working on before . . ." I lean over her desktop to the still open account of books we had been tasked to complete, a collection I know we did not finish before leaving. "This collection here, very mundane." I point to the list and notice he does not look.
"Ah! Yes, why didn't I just look at the list?" His tone is forced, like I did not give him the answer he wanted but he is trying not to make me uncomfortable again.
I'm sure my brows are completely furrowed when I say goodbye to him a second time, and when I look back to see if he is watching me, he is only sitting at his desk, shuffling papers innocently.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It is smart to be wary here, but the paranoia of thinking everyone, even people not of the temple, are plotting against me is ridiculous.
I start pushing my cart out of the exit without even looking at Ben. I don't want him to see the assumingly strange look on my face after that interaction. I need to stay focused. If I keep moving down the line of statues, I will eventually come to the Temple of Divine Mothers.
I could loiter in that corridor and wait for Leema to pass on her way to evening temple and walk with her, ask her information on the missing mother of that child.
As I push the cart into the hall, my wheel gets caught on something.
"It won't budge." I heave on the push bar then give up and walk to the front of the cart.
A large piece of brown fabric has rolled up into the wheel, wedging itself. That's odd. I would have noticed a big piece of fabric lying in the hall when we came through here before.
"Do you see this?" I ask and then look over at Ben where I left him, but he is several feet down the hall, holding up something.
"Is this a shirt?" He presents what looks like an Estate worker's clothes.
A burst of chaotic sound catches my attention down the opposite hallway, closer to the Estate's main wing—muffled shouting and doors being slammed loudly for no reason.
"Do you hear that? What is that?" I whisper.
Ben has his hand on his sword when I look at him again. He hears it too. "We need to go . . . now."
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The bell tower begins tolling.
We are both frozen, listening as the slow ringing begins a more frantic pattern, letting us know it is not for the faithful to come to prayer . . . but something much worse.
Ben approaches on swift feet, pulling me away from my cart. “We need to go!”
The bell continues to ramp up, and I know speed is more important than taking the heavy cart with us. Putting distance between whatever those sounds are is worth the punishment for abandoning my duties.
I do my best to keep up as we turn a corner but almost fall on another pile of mysterious clothing, like Estate workers are shedding layers and then disappearing.
The halls were so vibrant with activity this morning, and now they are completely empty. I look down at the solid object I lost my footing on as Ben pauses and looks down another corridor.
"Ben," I say, moving the fabric aside with my foot, revealing the hilt end of a guard’s sword.
He withdraws his own, his expression puzzled and angry.
"Where is the guard? It looks like he just left his sword here."
He presses his back to the wall to look down into a courtyard. "A guard would never leave their weapon behind intentionally." He sounds offended.
